


The Love Hotel

by jolimelon



Category: Battle Royale - All Media Types, Battle Royale - Takami Koushun
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:13:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27339247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jolimelon/pseuds/jolimelon
Summary: Yoshimi swears it's her last time working for Mitsuko at the love hotel, but when her client turns out to be a notorious killer on the loose, she's not sure if she'll even live to tell the tale. Mix in some armed robbery, pissed off delinquents, and a hotel fire? Yoshimi is certain that this is a night she'll never forget- if she makes it out alive.
Relationships: Kuronaga Hiroshi/Yahagi Yoshimi
Comments: 10
Kudos: 4





	1. Puyumi Pig

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shkanonyasutrice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shkanonyasutrice/gifts).



> Nothing says happy belated birthday like a violent fanfic! Originally I was intending to gift a nice, light-hearted Yoshitoki oneshot to my friend, but somehow I ended up finishing this one first. Regardless, I hope you enjoy!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic involves a lot of dark subject matter that may not be suitable for all readers. If you worry that you may feel uncomfortable or triggered reading anything to do with murder, crime, drug abuse, etc, then this fic may not be right for you.
> 
> I also totally have to give a shoutout to @keitaiijima! Their amazing halloween fic "Shiroiwa's Happy Halloween 2020" inspired me to write a story involving a masked killer so make sure you check that out if you haven't already!

The downward spiral began when Yoji broke up with her. 

Not that Yoshimi needed a man to keep her life in order, she knew she didn't. She knew that, and yet, there she was once again in a place she swore she'd never return. 

Shiroiwa's famous love hotel was known for many things, none of them particularly good.

To Yoshimi, it was a familiar escape from when she had grown tired of life and rebelled in her own way. She never had to sort out the arrangements, that was all Mitsuko's job. Yoshimi just had to show up, feign interest in some much older man, and go home with some extra cash. Once it was over, she'd stop thinking about it. That was a promise she had made to herself early on. Enough had occurred in her personal life that had already left her traumatized and tired, she wasn't going to let this be another item on the list. Of course, that was easier said than done, but _Whatever,_ she'd tell herself, _Just get through this and it'll be over. Get through this and you won't have to steal those nice things you want._

Her breakup with Yoji had completely blindsided her. Perhaps it was foolishly juvenile to believe that she would have a long future with a boyfriend she had found in junior high school, but Yoshimi had the naive heart of a romantic and had believed it to be true. He hadn't given her any reason not to believe it until just before they had broken up, either. He'd always showered her with compliments, held her hands so tightly, and stared at her in a way that had felt like genuine love that no other kids their age could understand, except maybe that one class couple, Ogawa and Yamamoto, but even their romance had felt so second fiddle to Yoshimi, who had felt that her very first love had been a gold struck that she'd never have to search for again.

 _"I'll stand by you no matter what, baby. You're my girl,"_ Yoji had once promised her in their earlier days of dating. She had believed every word he had ever said to her. Perhaps that was why it had stung so deeply when he broke up with her, calling her a whore and an easy lay as he did so. The reason? A late period had caused Yoshimi to go through a pregnancy scare, and though in the end she wasn't pregnant at all- Yoji had already left the picture out of fear, not allowing Yoshimi enough time to explain what was really going on. He hadn't stuck by her side at all, as she thought he would through anything. He had left her so quickly and so coldly that her mind still struggled to process that it was truly over. He was truly gone.

"What a fuckin' jerk ass," Hirono had hissed when Yoshimi came to her in tears, telling her what had happened between the two, "A total fuckin' sleeze. I never liked that prick, Yosh, but you already know that."

It had done little to comfort Yoshimi, but she had appreciated the attempt regardless. It had taken her days to even muster a smile afterwards, and at that point, even she had grown tired of her own moping. Instead, she had rashly approached Mitsuko and asked for her to arrange a meeting with whoever she could find that had fat pockets filled with cash.

Her lips tightly curling into a smile that was as chilling as it was angelic, Mitsuko had agreed to arrange the date in record timing. By the next night, Yoshimi was standing in her hotel room, brushing through her long curls with her finger tips as she had many times before.

Sitting on the bed behind her, Hirono counted through her own stack of bills. "You sure about this, Yosh? I thought you didn't want to do this anymore."

"That was before," Yoshimi replied, not wanting to think of her reasoning too deeply. She had only just stopped crying herself to sleep. "But I can do whatever I want now."

"If you're sure," Hirono replied, easily convinced. She wasn't the type to try and convince other's to do the more moral thing- after all, it would be awfully hypocritical- but out of Yoshimi's two friends, she was the more caring of the two, and seemed to worry that Yoshimi's post-breakup attitude may be the beginning of a brutal self-destruction. "I'm right down the hall if you change your mind, yeah?"

"Yeah, I know," Yoshimi turned to face her friend with a forced smile, "Lets get parfaits after this, or frozen yogurt or something."

"Think I'm in the mood for fries," Hirono replied.

"Okay so like, fries and milkshakes then?"

"Sounds good to me," Hirono clipped her bills together with one of Yoshimi's peach hair ties and slipped it into the pocket of her robe as she stood from the bed. She checked her wristwatch and tapped her finger against it's surface impatiently, "Man, this asshole sure is keeping you waiting."

"He's probably like, stuck in traffic on the way back from work or something. Seriously, you don't have to wait with me. I swear I'll be fine. You know I've done this before," Yoshimi attempted to assure her friend, "I know you have a client in a few minutes so seriously, go ahead! I'll be fine!"

Hirono looked unconvinced. "Funny how Mitsuko is never around to wait at times like this."

Yoshimi gave Hirono a weak smile, as Hirono rolled her eyes. Despite the lack of words, the two had a silent sort of conversation between them. They both knew the answer well enough so neither had to say it aloud.

_She doesn't care about anything but herself. Why would she be here?_

"I'll be fine," Yoshimi said, this time her tone more soft, almost pleading. She couldn't hide that she was nervous, but she genuinely believed the words she spoke. She'd be fine. She'd done this before.

"Alright then I'll leave you to it," Hirono finally gave in, twisting the door knob as she hugged her robe close to her body. Before exiting, she added, "See you later, Yosh."

"Bye, Hirono," Yoshimi replied, giving a brief wave until Hirono had fully shut the door, leaving Yoshimi to herself in the room.

All at once, Yoshimi's nerves returned to her. She briefly regretted letting Hirono leave her on her own, knowing that if she thought too deeply about her current predicament, she was likely to set off a fountain of tears that would ruin the makeup she'd spent hours applying to her face.

She sat herself in front of the vanity, inspecting her face in the mirror as she applied a fresh coat of red lipstick, her heart beating at a strange, anxious pace.

"It's fine," She spoke to herself in a slow voice, "You've been here before, and you're doing this because you want to. Because you can do anything that you want to now. It doesn't matter what Yoji would think. He doesn't matter at all. It's about me now. I'm not going to cry anymore."

She forced a smile just then, but she had read somewhere that after awhile, faking a large smile could convince the human brain that it was genuinely happy and could induce confidence. She didn't know how much of that was true but she trusted the words of her fashion magazines as if they were a holy bible. They hadn't steered her in the wrong direction before.

Just then, a knock at the door made Yoshimi jump to her feet. She had been so fully lost in her thoughts that she had nearly forgotten why she was there in the first place. She gave herself one final look in the mirror, adjusting the hem of her short, black lingerie dress so that it was long enough to cover everything that needed to be.

"You've got this," Yoshimi assured herself one last time before she made her way to the door, opening it slowly as she greeted, "I almost thought you weren't going to show up, Mr. Takesh--"

Once she had finally caught a glimpse of the man, Yoshimi couldn't help but choke on her words. He wore a thick Halloween mask, shaped like the face of a famous child's pro-police cartoon character, Puyumi Pig, a piglet with giant blue eyes and rosy cheeks that wore a policeman's cap between it's ears. Although it wasn't unheard of for client's to wear masks to hide their identities, this was the first such case that Yoshimi had witnessed. To make matters worse, she had grown up watching Puyumi Pig, which somehow made the costume of choice seem even more ominous.

"Mr. Takeshi," Yoshimi completed her words after a seconds hesitation. The name was also a likely alias but Yoshimi tried to be as friendly as she could. Finally, she opened the door further and stood out of the way, "Uhm, please come in..!"

The man stepped into the room, and headed straight for the bed, allowing his shoulder bag to slide down to the floor beside the nightstand. He stood still, and faced the wall. He hadn't said a word yet.

"Could I take your jacket?" Yoshimi asked, her heart rate increasing, though she blamed it on her usual nerves. "M-Maybe get you a bottle of water or a cigarette or something?"

"Just lock the door," The man replied, his voice surprisingly soft, "I can't risk anybody seeing me here. That sort of thing. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course!" Yoshimi tried to reply enthusiastically, her tone coming off more forceful than she had intended. Regardless, she did as she was told. In the meantime, the man removed his jacket, and placed it on the bed. He kept his mask on.

"Now get on the bed," The man commanded, "I don't have much time."

"Okay," Yoshimi replied, again doing as she was told. She crawled onto the bed from the end, and then sat as she waited for the man to follow suit.

But he didn't. He stood still, staring at her through the mesh holes in the Puyumi Pig mask. Yoshimi had no way to read his expression, his body language alone far too stiff to tell.

"Wouldn't you like to join--"

"Turn around." The man commanded again, his voice getting more firm with each demand. 

But Yoshimi knew she wasn't in a position to argue. The last thing she needed to deal with was an escalation from an upset client. She was in far too vulnerable of a position to risk anything. 

Turning around to face the beige walls, Yoshimi could feel as the man leaned against the bed, the bed frame creaking beneath his weight. He stayed in that position for some time, as the sound of zippers signified to Yoshimi that he was likely undressing himself. She reached at the side of her lingerie dress to do the same with her own clothing but was quickly met with the strong grip of one of the man's hands.

"Don't move," He said coldly. 

Yoshimi felt her body freeze in place, too scared to even move her hands from the side. Nothing about this was normal. 

"You're going to do as I say. Normally I like to get to know you girls a little better first but," The man's hand had reached Yoshimi's shoulder at this point, and she could feel his chest now pressing against her back in a tight grip. His other hand raised at his side, creating a clear silhouette against the wall, and even before Yoshimi had seen a glint from the corner of her own eyes, she knew that he was holding a knife. "But as I've told you, I simply don't have the time." 

"N-No, no, please- Whatever you're thinking about doing, p-please, don't... I'll do anything!" Yoshimi could feel the pleas pouring from her mouth before she even had time to process them, "P-Please!" 

"That's a funny word, 'Please'," The man chuckled, "I hear it so often. Hell, I've even taught it to my own children, but it sure does lose it's meaning after some time. You'll have to do better." 

"I-I-I," Yoshimi didn't know what to say, "I-I swear I'll do anything!" 

"Better than that," The man groaned into Yoshimi's ear, the plastic Puyumi Pig mask cold against her skin.

"P-Plea-- Y-You don't have to do this!" By then Yoshimi's eyes were hot with tears. She felt her chances of escape were unlikely. Hirono would be meeting her own client at the same time, and nobody ever knew where the fuck Mitsuko was. Nobody else could possibly save her. Nobody else would even know where she was. Oh God, what had she been thinking? Why had she let Hirono leave? Why had she decided to do this all over again?

"I-I won't tell anybody so l-let me go," Yoshimi added, the tears running down her face, taking bits of mascara down with them. "I s-swear!" 

She briefly thought of her family. Though it was a small, broken family, she couldn't help but wonder if they would cry when she was gone. Would her mother even be sober long enough to realize it? Would her absent father try to reconnect with her one day only to find she'd been murdered in some small town love hotel? And who would arrange her senile grandmother's medicines for her now? 

"That doesn't do you a lot of good when you don't know who I am in the first place." The man sneered, running the tip of the knife down Yoshimi's cheek. "So let me tell you what's going to happen now. I'm going to have you turn around and watch as I gut you like a fucking fi--"

The man's words were cut short as the hotel's fire alarms began to blare throughout the room and down the hallway. Both the man and Yoshimi remained at a standstill, unsure of what to do next. She briefly considered using this chance to escape, but there were no objects near her that she could use as a weapon to protect herself against the man, so she quickly shot the idea down. That would only make him angrier and bring her own demise sooner.

"Stay here. Don't move a fucking muscle," The man demanded as he let go of Yoshimi and rushed to the door to stare out the peephole. A rapid succession of knocks began from the other side, causing the man to swear out, "Fuck! Consider this your lucky day, whore."

Yoshimi turned around just in time to witness the man swing open the door and make a run for it. On the other side, a confused looking Hirono stood with her hand still in the knocking position. She snickered, "What the fuck was that guy wearing?"

"O-Oh, Hirono!" Yoshimi cried out, tumbling off of the bed as she made a rush toward her friend. "H-Hirono, you don't even know the half of it!"

The light tone of the other girl quickly shifted to more serious as she bent down at Yoshimi's side, "What the fuck happened?! What did he do to you?!" 

As she looked up at the other girl, Yoshimi's face was a mess of tears and blood, "He was going to kill me! He had a knife and everything! Oh my God, Hirono, i-it was terrible. If it wasn't for that alarm and you... I'd so totally be getting murdered right now." 

"For fucks sake," Hirono gasped, wiping some of the trickling blood from Yoshimi's cheek with the tip of her robe. "Should've known only a creep would come in wearing that fuckin' poontang pig mask. Shit. I should've stayed with you, Yoshimi. I should've known something was off." 

"I-It's fine," Yoshimi sobbed, "Everything is fine now. Lets go home!" 

"NOT SO FAST YOU FUCKIN----" A sudden voice interrupted the girls, causing Yoshimi to scream and cling onto Hirono. However, the fear was short-lived. 

Once she had opened her eyes again, Yoshimi was shocked to find that the unwanted guest was not the masked man, but rather, a group of boys that attended her school. A delinquent group referred to as the 'Kiriyama Family', though the one currently leading the troupe was the smallest of them all, Hiroshi Kuronaga. In his hands he held a long stick that burned bright with flames at the end, which he lowered upon realizing who he was facing. 

"Yahagi?!" Hiroshi yelled out.

"K-Kuronaga-kun?" Yoshimi gasped, "What are you doing?"

"Huh?! What the hell are YOU doing?! This is where our fuckin' pig is supposed to be!" 

"Pig...?" Yoshimi repeated, giving Hirono a curious look. She then looked back at the boys. "What do you mean..?"

Hirono narrowed her eyes at the boys and then stood defensively in front of Yoshimi. "What the fuck do you mean by that? I'll give you twenty seconds to explain."


	2. Bunta Bear

"We've got business with that asshole that doesn't concern the two of you. You should get out of here, it's not safe." Mitsuru replied. 

"Calm down the chivalry bullshit act. That pig of yours just tried to murder Yoshimi so I want some fuckin' answers before I shove my fingernails in your dick holes, y'hear?" 

"In our dick holes?! What th' fuck?!" Ryuhei Sasagawa blurted out, storming into the room.

"Before we get into it," Sho Tsukioka interrupted, his low voice as calm as ever, "Hiro, baby, please put that fire out. You know I can't be near open flames with all of this hair spray."

"Oh, shit, my bad," Hiroshi grumbled as he began to beat the flame with one of the many hotel pillows scattered throughout the room.

"In the meantime, do you all care to explain what the hell is going on?" Hirono asked, her patience wearing thin as she revealed her long freshly-manicured nails.

"That asshole stole our shit and we came to get it back!" Ryuhei blurted out.

"Stole?" Yoshimi repeated.

"Allow me to explain, since my boys can't read a room," Sho stepped forward, smoothing his pompadour neatly with his pinky, "It all began on a gorgeous evening, not as gorgeous as me naturally, but as far as weather goes, it was a beauty. We had a marvellous plan, fronted by yours truly, and foiled by a certain pig masked individual."

* * *

It began as a simple, baseless plan. The idea had come up like most of the gangs Kiriyama-less ideas had, a mixture of alcohol and marijuana hidden in the boards of Hiroshi's treehouse had been passed between the four boys as they talked. It was a quieter evening and since they had recently been the victors of a downtown rumble, they were feeling pretty confident. Nobody bothered to acknowledge that the rumble had been led and mostly won by Kiriyama (excluding Mitsuru, whose high praises of the boy were washed away quickly by the others who were more interested in praising themselves), because the boy had since been off doing his own thing, whatever that was. (They had stopped questioning it.)

Feeling invincible from their recent victory, they knew one thing for certain, and that was that they wanted to pull off a heist. Who were they robbing and why? At first, they didn't know, but they knew that the idea was golden. So, they prepared. They gathered supplies in the treehouse and after deciding to target the richest folks in town, they staked the locations they intended to rob ahead of time to ensure the families weren't present.

After weeks of planning, the night had arrived, and the boy's plan had gone awry in several ways. With each house they had robbed, they had encountered a new obstacle until finally, a resident of the final house had caught them, and they had nearly perished in a fire. 

Despite that, they never got caught for the act. They had made several missteps on the night of the plan, but they had been wise afterwards to cover their tracks. 

With the somewhat useless treasures they had acquired, the boys knew that they couldn't keep it at any of their homes in case an investigation was launched. First, they needed a secondary location to stash it until they were certain the coast was clear. The answer seemed simple enough. Locally, Shiroiwa's love hotel was infamous for many things, but its low prices was its real selling point. For a cheap fare, they could keep their treasures stashed safely for days without worrying about it. Thankfully, they had made the right call. 

The days following their heist had involved police questioning at the request of the highly wealthy Oda family. The youngest son, Toshinori, had been certain he had seen those particular four boys robbing his mansion and although he was true in his assumption, his word was not taken seriously by the cold members of his family. The boy's rooms were searched, but nothing of value belonging to the Oda's had been found. Kiriyama, who had been around for once, had managed to talk the groups way out of getting in trouble, and since there was no evidence to go against his words, the investigation was dropped just as soon as it had begun. 

When checking into the hotel room, the boys wore masks to conceal their identities. According to Sho, this was in case their stash was somehow found in one of the rooms and the police investigated local footage from the love hotel to found out who had brought it in. But according to Mitsuru, it was so that nobody would recognize them and think they were having some gay ass orgy. Either way, they all agreed masks were necessary, so they settled on the cheapest masks available, giant cartoon bear heads of a fictional children's character named Bunta Bear. He derived from the Puyumi Pig series and served as the main nemesis of policeman Puyumi Pig.

They received room 217, just down the hall from the very room they would run into Yoshimi Yahagi days later. At the time, of course, they had no idea. They stashed their precious loot safely in the room's closet, and then a different member of the gang would check on it each following day to ensure that it was still intact. Things were going swimmingly all week and the gang was feeling particularly confident after dodging any sort of consequence- when suddenly, on the day where they had all decided to arrive together to retrieve their treasures, they had found that the door to their room had been left wide open.

"Fuck! No!" Mitsuru groaned, rushing into the room and slamming open the closet doors.

Just behind him, Hiroshi had already ripped off his mask and thrown it to the ground as he ran inside and rummaged through the drawers.

"So much for anonymity," Sho sighed, as he removed his own mask. He didn't like wearing it much, anyway.

"It's gone! It's all fuckin' gone!" Ryuhei cried in dismay. He had joined Mitsuru in searching the closet, not that there was much to go through. "Hiro, check under the bed! Really get under there!"

They knew they were grasping for straws at that point, but they didn't want to admit that all of their hard work had gone to waste.

"Who even steals other people's stolen shit?! That's just wrong!" Ryuhei continued to grumble, "There're unspoken codes, fuckers!"

Just then, Hiroshi, who had crouched to the ground, let out a piercing yelp and jumped to his feet. "There's a fuckin' du-!"

Before he could continue, he had seemingly tripped over nothing and landed straight on his face. More curiously, his body began to drag back towards the bed. He gripped the carpet in front of him with his fingernails, yelling out in dismay. The other boys sprung to life, running toward him, but before they could get there, the mattress from the bed flung across the room, striking Ryuhei who was subsequently knocked into Mitsuru and Sho in a single swift motion. Whoever was under the bed had kicked their strong legs up to derail the gang before they could be trapped. As the three struggled to get to their feet, the man was already standing, gripping onto Hiroshi's foot and holding him mid-air.

The man wore a Puyumi Pig mask which was now partially turned to the side, though not enough to reveal his face.

"Don't... Don't move." The man huffed, sounded out of breath from his quick movements. "Don't move or the kid gets it."

As he spoke, he leaned down, pulling a large knife from the duffel bag that the boys had used for their loot. The tips and sides of the knife were coated in splatters of dark, dried blood.

"Wh-What the fuck?! DUDE, WHAT THE---" Hiroshi began to yell before the man brought the knife to his throat to silence him.

Seeing that his friends were seething with rage, and likely to make a stupid move, Sho was the first to make a non-threatening gesture, lifting his hands to show that he meant no harm. "Alright, fine. We don't want any trouble, do we, boys?"

There was no response. Hiroshi, much too afraid to speak, simply squeaked from deep within his throat.

"Here's what's going to happen," The man began, patting the knife against Hiroshi's jaw, "I'm going to take this bag for myself, and you children are going to stay in here. I'm going to leave the building and you will not follow me. If you follow me, I will not hesitate to gut half of you and choke the other half with the fucking leftover organs. Now step aside and get down to the ground."

Doing as they were told, the three boys stood off to the side and laid on their stomachs. Meanwhile, the man lowered his knife and gripped the duffle bag, walking backwards out the door, letting go of Hiroshi only once he knew he could get away quickly. Then, he slammed the door shut.

"Fuck! Fuckin' asshole!" Hiroshi yelled as he scrambled to his feet. "Come on, we gotta get our shit back! The four of us can handle him all at once!"

"You sure you want to go after him, Hiro?" Mitsuru asked, genuinely surprised by the smallest one's bravery.

"Duh! Hey, it looks like he's just goin' in another room! That fuckin' asshole deserves to get his ass beat! Come on!" Hiroshi replied. He'd been on the tips of his toes peering out of the peephole while jimmying the doorknob with his hands. Eventually, he became aggressive with the door and looked down at his hands, "Fuck!! Why won't it fucking budge?!"

"Lemme give it a try, weakass," Ryuhei said, all but shoving Hiroshi out of the way. After a moment of struggling with it as well, he cursed and kicked the door with his foot. Mitsuru and Sho took individual turns as well before finally, they concluded that all of their strength would be needed to leave the room.

And so, together the four charged at the door, blasting the hinges off the sides, the group landing messily in the middle of the hallway. By then, their yelling and noise had attracted the attention of other hotel residents that were not very happy about their activities getting interrupted.

"Fucking hoodlums! Get the fuck out of here!" One such voice yelled anonymously from behind a closed door.

"Fuck off! Who the fuck are you?!" Hiroshi yelled back as he scrambled to his feet. Surrounding him, his friends grumbled as they dusted themselves off.

"Not now, man," Mitsuru groaned, a cloud of dust emerging from his tousled curls. "We lost sight of that asshole. Did you see which hall he went down?"

"He went into another fuckin' room down the hallway like I was tryna say before!" Hiroshi grumbled as he pointed directly towards the room at the end of the hallway, "One of those ones!"

"Alright, so we bust in them all until we find him and kick his ass?" Ryuhei grinned, cracking his knuckles as if he hadn't had his own ass handed to him by a mattress only moments ago.

"Let's be smart about this," Sho replied, often the only one of the group blessed with the ability of any foresight, "He's a fairly large man, and that was one hell of a kick he had back there. How do we avoid a worse fate next time around? We need an advantage over him."

The boys thought it over for a moment. Then, Mitsuru bluntly concluded, "Weapons. We need weapons. We could've kicked his ass if not for that stupid little knife."

"Yea," Ryuhei quickly agreed, "We need sumn with range so we can knock that dumb ass knife right out of his fuckin' hands!"

Hiroshi's face quickly lit up. "HEY! I GOT IT!"

Grabbing the ply of wood that had been used to jam the door by the assailant, Hiroshi held it up and did what he did best- he began to set the end on fire. At first using just his lighter, he managed to get the end to erupt into flames by borrowing some of Sho's hairspray. Then he held it up tall in victory. "Now we've got range _and_ fire! So we just gotta wait for the fire alarms to go off and he'll come runnin' out of his room straight to us and BOOM! We kick his ass!"

Mitsuru and Ryuhei briefly shared a doubtful look, followed by a shrug that seemed to wordlessly say, _'Eh, what the hell? Why not?'_

Sho nodded in approval, "Not half bad, boo." 

It took only about half a minute for the fire alarms to begin blaring throughout the hotel hallways and then in the rooms as the smoke travelled through the air. In no time at all, angry residents vacated their rooms in a hurry, hardly taking notice of the boys in the center holding the tall flaming stick.

Except for one man in particular, though unfortunately for the boys, it was not the man they were looking for. He was a short, stumpy man with thin curls glued to his forehead with sweat. He wore nothing but a small hand towel around his chubby waist that left very little to the imagination. 

"It's you fucking kids! You were the ones yelling and now you're trying to burn the place down?! Have some god damn respect!"

Despite his bold words, he was hardly any taller than Hiroshi. 

"What'd you say, dick for brains?!" Ryuhei growled. 

Hiroshi pointed the flaming stick at the man, "I'll burn your fuckin' chest pubes off, asshole!" 

"Aw, how tragic that we ruined your good time, _sir_ ," Sho teased in a mocking tone, "Though I can only imagine how grateful your date is that we gave her a good excuse to run away." 

The man's face flushed red with rage, "You no good delinquents are a burden to society, I'm going to report you and get you all thrown into correctional facilities!" 

"Oh yeah? Think you're tough shit little man?" Mitsuru smirked, "Think you're gonna have the energy to squeal like a little pig after we're done with you?"

The man froze in place for a moment, his pointed finger now shaking slightly in place, but before he could even twist on his heels to run away, the gang had captured him and were occupied with beating him black and blue. It wasn't until a moment later that Hiroshi jumped up, flaming stick still in grip, that he realized, "SHIT! We forgot about the pig bastard!"

Mitsuru immediately halted all movement, one hand gripping the short man's throat as the other had been pulled back to punch him, before also jumping up and exclaiming, "Shit!.... Shit! He probably got away by now! This stupid asshole got in the way!"

"So we should keep beating him, right?!" Ryuhei exclaimed, ignoring the mans screams as he twisted the skin on his arm, leaving behind dark purple streaks, "'Cause he ruined our chances of gettin' our shit back?! Fuckin' bastard! I'll kill you!" he added, twisting harder.

"No! We've gotta get that shit back! The d-i-a-r-e-y is still in there too, dude. We can't let some nasty old pervert jerk off to that shit!" Mitsuru exclaimed, fists clenched in the air.

"That's your only concern?" Sho teased, with a sly smile.

"Alright here's a better one," Mitsuru grumbled in return, "We used Hiroshi's fuckin' gym bag and it wouldn't be hard for cops to track who it belongs to if they find it somewhere with some of the shit still left in it."

"Dude!" Hiroshi whined, "My mom will be totally pissed if that bag gets ruined!"

"Shit, I don't wanna get canned and then deal with froggy being all smug about it," Ryuhei grumbled as he reluctantly let go of the man, "Beat it, fatty! And don't you dare fuckin' peep or else it's on sight next time!"

The man, with his eyes already swollen enough that he could hardly see and his towel now fallen to the ground, ran through the remainder of the hotel hallway stark naked, turning the corner without looking back. Ryuhei couldn't help but snicker, "Man, fat people runnin' always cracks me up."

By then, the other boys were already trying to figure out where the masked pig man had gone. Most doors had been left open, and after a quick inspection, it was easy to conclude that he wasn't in any of them. Only three rooms remained closed, at which point the boys decided to storm into them all- until eventually, they would hopefully find the one the man was one.

"NOT SO FAST YOU FUCKIN' PIG--" Hiroshi exclaimed upon entering the first room while wielding the flaming stick. Inside, a couple on the bed caught in the act quickly shot up out of the bed and yelled at the boys. They promptly left, and tried the next room.

Again, Hiroshi went with the same introduction (having grown attached to how tough it made him sound), "NOT SO FAST YOU FUCKIN'---" This time what cut his introduction short was a high-pitched screaming... coming from his classmate, Yoshimi Yahagi.

"Yahagi?!" Hiroshi exclaimed in confusion, lowering the flaming stick.

The night could only get stranger from there.

* * *

"So you weren't working with him or something...?" Yoshimi asked, sounding relieved.

"That asshole?!" Hiroshi screamed in dismay, "Fuck no! Fuck that guy! We were using one of these hotel rooms to store out loot for the night and that asshole stole it! Where th' fuck did he go?!"

Hirono backed down, albeit hesitantly, at the boy's explanation, "Too bad. You just missed him."

"Fuck," Mitsuru grumbled, throwing a fist against the wall, "Where did he go?!"

"How the hell should I know?" Hirono rolled her eyes.

"Wait," Yoshimi intervened, the attention of the room now falling on her. She extended an arm and pointed to the side of the bed where the shoulder bag the man had been carrying remained, "He left his things here... Is that what you guys are looking for?"

All at once, the boys grinned and cheered in delight. Ryuhei pumped a fist in the air while Hiroshi jumped for joy.

"Fuck yes!"

"Holy shit I can't believe it!" 

Mitsuru rushed to the bag and inspected it over. His delight quickly died down. "Shit. It looks like he took most of it with him."

"Typical, we can't rejoice for even a moment," Sho sighed.

"Alright, boohoo, let's all get the fuck out of here now. This fire alarm is giving me a migraine," Hirono grimaced.

"Yeah..." Yoshimi sighed, "I just want to go home."

But even as she spoke the words aloud, Yoshimi had the strong sense that her night from hell was far from over.


	3. Ryota Butaro

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little something different, but I thought it might be the best way to fill in some of the gaps between Yoshimi & Hirono's night vs the KFs! I tried to make it interesting to read through so I hope you enjoy! (As result, I've extended the story by one chapter, so that the conclusion can be with the two groups working together!)

Ryota Butaro was a miserable man from birth. But that didn't matter. The only relevancy that he held to Yoshimi Yahagi, Hiroshi Kuronaga, and their friends, occurred within only the past couple of days. 

Of course they had no way of knowing this, but they had all already met Butaro several times. It would be hard to miss him after all, considering that he was the only front desk clerk at the Shiroiwa love hotel. 

They didn't think much of him. Nobody ever thought much of the desk clerk. And why would they? Nobody was ever particularly proud to be visiting the hotel, namely the minors of Shiroiwa who used it for fast cash or a hiding spot. Butaro was somebody that people forgot as soon as he was out of sight- he'd been that way since he was an unremarkable child.

Perhaps that's why he was the perfect small town masked killer. Nobody ever suspected him. How could anybody suspect a man that they couldn't even remember? 

Of course, he'd only killed a few times over the years, and he'd only killed prostitutes visiting the hotel during brief moments when they were alone, but he'd never once been suspected of any of the crimes. Whenever the news reports of the murders appeared on television, they didn't even seem to care about launching an investigation! It became much too easy for Butaro. There was no chase. 

It just wasn't enough. Indeed, even heartless killers grow weary and bored. Murder just wasn't cutting it anymore for old Butaro, so when an odd group of boys entered the hotel one day wearing masks and carrying a duffle bag of treasure, he knew he had something interesting on his hands. His curiousity grew with each passing day as a different boy from the group would stop by to check on their loot. 

_Oh, what could it be? What treasures do they hide? It must be something divine. I have to know._

After nearly a week of this torture had passed, Butaro couldn't hold back any longer. He bought himself a mask (shaped like cartoon character Puyumi Pig- to mock the Bunta Bear masks that the boys wore). _Ahaha, I'm too hilarious,_ Butaro thought to himself, even if nobody else would ever see his hilarity in action.

When the hotel went through its usual quiet mid-day period, Butaro entered the boy's room with his master key and found the stash almost immediately. 

_Right in the closet. These are some clever boys. Nobody would ever think to look right in the open closet. I sure hope this treasure is brighter than they are._

Opening the bag, Butaro's sausagey fingers quivered with excited delight in anticipation of what was to come next.

The first item-- a figurine of some sort? Alright, a little strange but it looked like it might be worth... something. Maybe a generous ¥520 at a garage sale in the current economy. He continued to search, digging through the tangled mess of jewellery to try and find something more valuable. He quickly grew frustrated with searching, so he dumped the contents onto the floor. 

Falling down with a thump was a hardcover book, flipped open to a random page. Butaro picked it up and began to read. 

> _Dear Diary,_
> 
> _Another crazy fun day at school! Yuka did that thing where she puts the chopsticks in her mouth and pretends to be a walrus. It gets me every time!_
> 
> _But things are getting kind oof... Awkward? Noriko wrote a new poem today and it's called " When you sing those American rock n roll songs in homeroom it feels like you're singing only to me"._
> 
> _I'm starting to think she might have a crush on Nanahara?? I could be totally wrong but it's just the vibe I'm getting... And everyone knows Yukie has a huge thing for him! This could really blow up and turn into a fight or something and I don't want anyone to fall out..!!（；へ：)_
> 
> _In happier news, I'm going to buy that pink dress I've been looking at for ages! It will be perfect for my father's upcoming Christmas party. I'm actually a little excited!! I'm playing the piano again so I need to practice though. Wish me luck, diary!_

It was at this point that Butaro knew he had somehow gone down the wrong path in life. At what point had the downward spiral begun? His pathetic life had become bleak enough to be robbing teenagers of their extremely useless, juvenile 'treasures', including a diary written by a girl who's biggest concerns involved schoolgirl crushes and pink dresses.

Now significantly less excited about his heist, Butaro shoved the items back into the duffle bag and prepared to toss it back into the closet. However, a noise stopped him- somebody was unlocking the door.

 _Oh shit. You're kidding me. They're showing up now?!_ Butaro panicked- now he had no choice but to commit to stealing the bullshit he had absolutely no interest in. 

Preparing his knife so that it was within reaching distance, Butaro hid beneath the bed just as the four masked boys entered the room.

It didn't take long for them to discover that the bag was missing, and it took even less time for them to enlist the smallest of their friends to search beneath the bed. Butaro could feel his body growing increasingly sweatier. But now he had no choice but to act somehow. He grabbed the boy's ankle as he attempted to run, and then kicked the mattress off of the bed, successfully knocking the other three boys into each other. He hadn't calculated the move or anything- it was just a bit of dumb luck, but he had to roll with it like he knew what the hell he was doing. 

"Don't.. Don't move," Butaro threatened as he held the boy dangling in the air. _Fuck, I have to quit smoking. I can't fucking breathe under this mask..._ "Don't move or the kid gets it."

Somehow, he managed to come up with convincing enough threats to make the boys stay in place and not attack him (he knew he'd be screwed and outnumbered if they all attacked instead), so he threw the smallest of the boys to the ground quickly before running out the door, jamming the knob in place with a nearby piece of plywood so that they couldn't immediately follow him as he made his escape.

 _I better hide in a vacant room now,_ Butaro thought to himself, _Give it a half hour or so and those boys will give up on trying to find me..._

And so, he did just that, and approached a room just down the hall that he was almost certain had been vacant for the evening. Just to be certain, he gave a knock first. When there was no answer, he reached for the keys and then- the door opened, and on the other side stood a bottle-blonde teenage girl.

 _Fuck, seriously?_ Butaro cursed his luck, but wanting to honour his new year's resolution to be more of an optimist, he decided to look on the bright side, _Well, I might as well commit one fun crime today after the morning I've had. You deserve this, Ryota._

Without responding, Butaro made his way to the bed and instructed the girl to face the wall. Oh, how he loved to control women. Especially those that were tiny and defenseless against him. As she looked away, he shoved his pockets full of the useless treasures, even going so far as to shove the diary in his pants. Sure, it was worthless, but he had worked hard for it, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to find out if Yukie knew about Noriko's crush on Nanahara, and if Izumi went with the teal or pink dress for her father's party.

Then, he leaned on the bed, preparing himself for the most thrilling crime of them all. The shake in the blonde girl's shoulders as she saw the silhouette of the knife on the wall in front of her absolutely gave him a thrill. _Yes, yes, plead for your life, little whore._

"N-No, no, please- Whatever you're thinking about doing, p-please, don't... I'll do anything!" The girl's voice trembled as she cried, yet something about her words felt rehearsed, as if she had been in his position before, "P-Please!"

"That's a funny word, 'Please'," Butaro repeated in an attempt to sound cool and mysterious. Sure, he considered his victims whores but he still wanted them to think he was like, tough and cool first. "I hear it so often. Hell, I've even taught it to my own children," Despite saying this, Butaro didn't have children. He tended to get lost in the role, though. "But it sure does lose its meaning after some time. You'll have to do better."

The 'banter' (as Butaro liked to refer to it) continued for some time until Butaro grew tired of it. It was almost time for his break and he knew that his tuna sandwich was not going to keep for much longer. It was time to end things. And then, later on, he'd call the police about a dead hooker and have them deal with the rest. Since it wasn't an unusual crime, they wouldn't suspect him at all, and life would go on for Ryota Butaro.

There was only one problem, though. The fire alarms began to blare out of nowhere, a bit of a rarity for the hotel. Being the only staff, he was the only person with access to the power room where he could disarm the fire alarms. If they continued to blare for even another moment, the police and fire department would be alerted and would arrive shortly. That would be a problem for him.

_Maybe I could kill her quickly and then go and disarm it. It wouldn't take long for a girl this small to bleed out..._

"Don't move a fucking muscle," Butaro commanded as he left the bed and peered out the peephole. The hallways were flooding with hotel residents rushing out, but most surprising of all was a spiky-haired girl standing right in front of the door whose piercing eyes almost felt as if they were looking right back at him. He nearly jumped back in shock as she began to knock.

"Fuck!" Butaro called out, his fake deep voice raising a few octaves, "Consider this your lucky day, whore."

With that, he opened the door and rushed into the hallway, heading straight for the power room on the first floor. The stairs, so crowded with people that he felt like a sardine in a can, made it take Butaro twice as long to get to his destination. By the time he had gotten there, removing his pig mask when he was sure nobody could see him, he felt like his chest was on fire, the taste of blood strong in his throat. Luckily, he was able to disarm the alarm just before emergency services could be alerted. Then, he collapsed to the ground with a sigh of relief, his hand over his chest as he attempted to catch his breath. It took him at least five minutes- maybe ten, but the intense burning in his chest felt as if it would last a lifetime.

He had gotten away this time, just by the skin of his teeth.

Or so, he would have, had he not left a trail of fallen jewelry behind him.

"Little pig, little pig, let us th' fuck in!" A rough, young voice echoed from the other side of the door.

Butaro swallowed back, his eyes widening. These kids were insane. How far were they willing to go for some stupid diary and ugly grandma pearls?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge shout out to @keitaiijima who wrote the Izumi diary section in this chapter! It was absolutely perfect and much appreciated!


	4. Roasted Pork

Yoshimi stood with an uncertain step, her body still cold and shakey from the experience she'd just had. By then, Hirono was occupied with a discussion between her and three out of four of Kiriyama's 'goons', as she liked to call them. The fourth, and often forgotten member, Hiroshi, caught Yoshimi's gaze briefly as he smacked the last bit of fire out of his piece of plywood, the pillowcase now singed on it's side. He didn't take notice, nor would he have cared if he had, his gaze too occupied with observing Yoshimi. 

"Hey, uh, y'okay?" Hiroshi asked, his usual rowdy voice lowered out of respect. 

Yoshimi forced a smile, nodding curtly, "I'll be fine. It's just part of the, uhm, the job, I guess. I'm lucky, really..." 

"Lucky? Nah, you've been havin' a real shit year," Hiroshi countered, earning him a surprised eyebrow raise from the girl, "Between cap'n douchebag dumpin' you and this?! That's rough shit." 

"Thanks for the reminder," Yoshimi countered, though she wasn't particularly annoyed. He was right, after all. It had been a shit year and it certainly wasn't getting any better. "You guys have had to rough, between Oda trying to set you on fire and this... Guess it doesn't get easier for any of us." 

"Guess so," Hiroshi replied a little awkwardly, and it was at that point that Yoshimi realized she hadn't heard his voice speak so softly for that long before. It was sort of nice, really. "How come, uh, like, how come you're doin' this stuff again? Thought you didn' anymore or whatever?" 

"I don't," Yoshimi quickly countered, "I mean, I haven't... I just... I don't know! I needed to escape my life again. I don't have many other options. I was only gonna do it once more..." 

"Man, fuck this stuff," Hiroshi replied coarsely, taking Yoshimi by surprise, "Guys like this are scumbags, if you ever need money just roll with us! We got plenty of ways of makin' it!" 

_Probably nothing much better than this,_ Yoshimi couldn't help thinking to herself with amusement, though she couldn't deny that the invitation was tempting. She imagined herself and Hirono with the boys- not needing to answer only to Mitsuko anymore, but still getting to rebel in their own ways. It had an appeal, she couldn't deny that. 

"Yeah?" Yoshimi replied, twisting one of the tips of her curls with her finger.

"Hell yeah!" Hiroshi's voice got higher again, by then alerting his friends to his absence in their conversation. 

"Hey tweedledum and tweedledickhead, we got a lead over here!" Ryuhei called out, just as the fire alarms ceased to blare any longer. 

Yoshimi and Hiroshi were snapped out of their private conversation and forced back into reality. A feeling of anxious uncertainty returned to Yoshimi along with a ringing in her ears, as she remembered that her would-be murderer was still within the same building as the two groups.

"HUH?!" Hiroshi was instantly sucked back in, rushing to the hallway where the others had gathered. He followed their gazes to the floor, where one of Mrs. Kanai's diamond earrings was glistening beneath the overhead lighting. 

"An' look at this," Mitsuru continued along the hallway, pointing out several other fallen pieces of jewelry along the way, "This dumb asshole is leading us right to where he is."

"Shit, what a fuckin' idiot!" Hiroshi laughed. 

"Could it be a trap..?" Yoshimi mumbled nervously, "What if he wants to be followed?" 

"I don't think he's smart enough," Hirono countered, "Besides, we outnumber him." 

Yoshimi must have looked as nervous as she was because Mitsuru was quick to step in, "Hey, you don't gotta come along with us, it might be dangerous an' stuff. You guys should stay behind and lock the door an' shit." 

But before Yoshimi could respond, Hirono chimed in, "Oh fuck off, if anybody is catching that bastard, it's going to be me! I'm pissed now." 

"I'll come too," Yoshimi replied, mostly because she didn't want to be alone anymore, "You're right, we outnumber him. We'll all be safer together."

"Yeah! No way he can beat all of us!" Hiroshi grinned at the girl, earning him a cautious smile back.

The group began their hunt towards the end of the line of jewelry. It was almost too easy to follow. Down a flight of stairs and throughout the main hall, the boys would constantly lean down and pick up an earring, or a brooch. Despite his caution to hide his identity, the pigman had been careless to let the treasures slip out as he ran away, and it had led the kids to his very location. A maintenance closet. 

"He's gotta be in here," Mitsuru motioned for the group to huddle up quietly and spoke no louder than a whisper, "There's no other exit that I know of, and besides, he woulda seen this shit and picked it up, right? Or at least try to."

Ryuhei concealed a snicker, "Fuckin' idiot."

"There are some windows on the other side, though..." Yoshimi countered. "I don't know if he'd fit through.."

"So what's the plan?" Hirono asked, "We kick open the door and I squash his balls like grapes?"

The boys all instinctively flinched at the mere suggestion.

"Nah, we gotta be like, strategic and shit," Mitsuru said, despite not being the best in a leader's position himself. Where were Kazuo and Mitsuko when you needed them to call the shots?

"I know," Yoshimi spoke up, earning surprised looks from the rest of the group, "Hear me out..."

For the next few moments, the group listened intently to Yoshimi's plans. Without much discussion, they had all agreed, knowing well that Yoshimi had faced the worst predicament that night, so it was only fair to go with her wishes. As the group scattered to their agreed-upon locations, it was only Yoshimi, Hiroshi, and Sho left behind.

Hiroshi, in the midst of lighting his piece of plywood on fire once again, stopped to look at Yoshimi with concern, "Y'sure about this?"

"I'm sure," Yoshimi said, "What good would it do us to run away now? This guy would still be on the loose out there. I don't think I'd ever sleep again."

Hiroshi smirked, "Fuck yeah! Y'know, you're pretty tough, Yahagi."

Yoshimi nearly laughed, "I'm literally terrified right now. Part of me hopes he already ran away. Is that bad?"

"Nah," Hiroshi looked conflicted for a second as if he didn't know whether to say what he wanted to say next or not. He continued, "I was totally freaked out when he grabbed me by that ankle. Would've pissed my fuckin' pants if my bros weren't there. That shit was scary!"

Strangely comforted, Yoshimi shifted closer to the maintenance door slowly and prepared herself. Whatever happened next, she knew she'd feel uneasy.

As far as Yoshimi's plan went, it was as simple as this: She, Hiroshi, and Sho would stay in front of the maintenance closet. Hirono, Mitsuru, and Ryuhei would sneak around to the side of the building to cover any doors or windows that the man could escape from. If he was still inside, as they suspected he was, then he would be cornered by the two groups. If he had escaped somehow, then he couldn't have gotten far, and the outdoor group would be able to pursue him immediately. 

Smoke from Hiroshi's stick began to fill the back room as he waved it around the door, and Yoshimi could hear banging from the outside where the others were stationed, signifying that they were in place. A panicked clatter a few seconds later confirmed that somebody was, in fact, in the room. Yoshimi felt a nervous pang in her stomach knowing that her would-be-murderer was only a few feet away from her, but she remained firm in position.

"Little pig, little pig, let us th' fuck in!" Hiroshi couldn't resist taunting. Yoshimi held back a laugh. Who thought of something like that in such a high-anxiety moment?

"Do you think he'll come out?" Yoshimi asked, wondering if they alone could overpower him if necessary. Sure, they had the weapons, but did they have the luck?

"Yeah, unless he wants to choke on smoke!" Hiroshi grinned.

As if on cue, the sound of glass smashing silenced the group.

"A window?!" Yoshimi asked, feeling her heart flutter nervously. 

"HE'S TRYNA FUCKIN' ESCAPE!" Ryuhei's voice echoed all the way from the outdoors.

"Fuck! I'll go an' help!" Hiroshi offered until Sho held him back. 

"Not so quick, boo. We're sticking to the plan, alright? They've got this handled." 

"What if he hurts them?" Yoshimi bit on her lip nervously, rethinking her plan much too late. 

"They'll be fine," Sho assured her, "Now we wait for our turn." 

Yoshimi and Hiroshi shared an uncertain glance, but Hiroshi ultimately shrugged his shoulders and resumed his ready position, plywood held firmly in hand. Yoshimi followed suit and took a deep breath to calm herself as the doorknob of the maintanence closet clicked and then slowly began to open. Her knees buckled and she felt a bead of sweat running beneath her hair. She wasn't so scared that she couldn't stop to think about how gross it felt. 

As the door eased open, on the other side stood Mitsuru with a victorious grin. Behind him, Hirono and Ryuhei held one arm each of the mystery man who was positioned on his knees, his nose bloodied and his eyes filled with tears. 

"Ma'am," Mitsuru looked at Yoshimi and motioned for her to come in, "If you would so kindly do th' honours of crushin' the balls on this bastard." 

"Please! Please! You have the wrong person!" 

Despite his pleas, less than a meter away, the Puyumi Pig mask sat on the floor, the sides coated in now-dried blood. He hadn't even washed up or changed his clothing, only more pieces that fit the puzzle all too well. 

Yoshimi stood up straight, doing her best to look tough despite the pit that grew in her stomach. Somehow she still felt that shred of doubt that this man may not be the same one, even though she knew that he clearly was. 

"Fuckin' bastard," Hiroshi muttered behind her, his tone alone enough to indicate that he was eager to pounce. 

"Please! Don't do this! I love my balls! I need them!" The man continued to plea. 

"Oh, wah-wah I love my balls! Boohoo!" Ryuhei mocked him, twisting his arm in his grip. "Come on, Yahagi!" 

"P-Please?" Yoshimi repeated, her voice cracking as her expression danced between a grin and a scowl. "You're saying please as you beg for your life?! You... You fucker!" 

Yoshimi began to scream loudly, her fists tightly clenched. Maybe it was because she was a follower and maybe- no, certainly- it was because she was mad that some ugly, lame, pathetic lowlife old man nearly took her life just for kicks. She knew she wanted nothing more than to beat his ass and scream her guts out while doing it. And so, she did. In fact, she pounced on the man with such force that Hirono and Ryuhei nearly lost their footing, all the while screaming so loudly that even Hiroshi stood back, letting out a mystified, "Damn." 

Although she was far from the strongest of the bunch, the others were inspired by her fighting moves and it didn't take long for them to join her. Minus one- Mitsuru, who calmly collected the treasures as they were torn from the pig man's body, letting out a victory cry as Izumi's diary somehow made it through the huddle unharmed. 

However, during the commotion, something had gone unnoticed by all. The plywood that Hiroshi had been holding had at some point slipped from his hands, probably when he was so excited to be beating ass that he tossed it aside and didn't realize. Now, the smoke in the room had become too strong to go ignored and only then did the kids notice the flames as they erupted along the walls of the room. 

"I draw the line at close flames," Sho called out, "Let's split." 

"Did ya grab everythin', Mitsu?!" Ryuhei asked, and was quickly met with a nod from the other boy. 

"Yea, it's all here. Let's go!" 

"Yosh, come on," Hirono said as she grabbed onto the other girl, nearly having to pry her from the almost-motionless body of the pig-man. 

Before following the others, Hiroshi leaned over the pig-man, spitting square in his face, "An' that's for makin' me look stupid in front of the dudes! Cocksucker!" 

The group quickly made their escape out the same window that Ryuhei, Mitsuru, and Hirono had used to enter the room. As soon as they were all out, they made a running start down the street, the sound of fire alarms once again beginning to blare as they turned the corner. 

And, for some inexplicable reason, they began to laugh as they ran, which didn't aid their stamina in the slightest. Yet, they couldn't stop, sharing grins of victory with each other throughout the howling herd, despite the trauma they had all faced that day. 

"We fuckin' did it!" Mitsuru held up Izumi's diary in victory, "We beat his ass and we got our shit! Win-fuckin'-win!" 

"Why the hell do you even have Kanai's diary, anyway? Creep!" Hirono inquired, still laughing as she asked. 

"Long story," Sho replied, "It was a beautiful evening but not as---" 

"Not this shit again, Zuki!" Ryuhei groaned, "When we stole shit, we stole that too! Didn't mean to but eh it's pretty fuckin' funny!" 

"Yeah?" Hirono inquired, "Let's go some place and laugh over it then. What do you say, Yosh? Over parfaits? My treat!" 

"Really?" Yoshimi asked, for some reason looking to Hiroshi before she answered. He grinned back, flashing a big thumbs up. 

"You've earned it." Hirono continued, "Rest of you have to get your own, though." 

"Okay!" Yoshimi chimed. 

She'd been having so much fun running alongside the others that she had nearly forgotten what had happened. She had certainly forgotten that she was running down the main street wearing a lingerie dress, but she knew she wouldn't soon forget whatever kind of euphoria she was feeling just then. The feeling of escaping death, standing her ground, and two leader-less gangs joining together and somehow making it out just fine all the same. 

By the time they arrived at the cafe, the group was too deep in conversation to notice all of the glances and dirty looks that they were receiving. They choose a large booth where Yoshimi sat beside Hirono, and across from Hiroshi. As the others were recounting that day's adventure, and occasionally reading embarrassing excerpts from Izumi's diary, despite Mitsuru's protests, Yoshimi looked at Hiroshi. 

"Today was pretty scary, huh?" She asked, immediately beating herself up mentally over the stupid question. Of course it was. 

"Fuck yeah, it was, but we totally kicked ass!" Hiroshi bellowed, his voice certainly too loud for a small cafe. He added, more softly, "But you totally kicked the most ass." 

"I did?" Yoshimi smiled, "I don't even know where I found the energy. I was like, all scared and then next thing I knew, his balls were under my high heels." 

"I ain't ever seen a grown man cry so fast," Hiroshi laughed, "Fuckin' pussy, makin' us think he's this tough killer and really, he's some lame-ass nerd." 

"Right?! I feel so embarrassed that I was ever scared." Yoshimi replied, "I bet all the blood on the knife was fake and stuff." 

Hiroshi nodded, gobbling a mouthful of ice cream before he replied, "Yea, we totally shoulda realized how fake an' dumb it looked sooner!" 

As the group continued to socialize loudly (to the dismay of the cafe's other patrons), a succession of fire trucks sped down the street where, unbeknownst to the group, the love hotel had become completely engulfed in flames. The old roof that had needed repairing had collapsed in only minutes, and although Ryota Butaro had initially survived the crash, he had become pinned to the ground by a beam as he attempted to crawl to safety. As a result, he burned to death before the fire department had even been alerted of the fire. 

The only people to ever realize that Ryota Butaro died were the policemen who made the official report. Since there was no evidence to suggest otherwise, the incident was reported as an accident and no further investigation took place. 

Ryota Butaro died as irrelevantly and pathetically as he had lived, only now, the streets of Shiroiwa were unknowingly safer without the masked murderer waiting behind the main desk of the local love hotel as he awaited the arrival of his next victim. 

And the kids who had killed him, well, they never even realized that they had. But the pigman would remain a hilarious inside joke between them for years to come. 

Oink.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnnnd, it's over! I hope you guys enjoyed this fic despite the long waiting times! I became disappointed with it as time passed and it became more difficult to finish despite the fact that I've had the entire thing planned from the start. Such is life sometimes, I guess! But, anyway, I hope that from the reader's perspective it was alright! Thanks for sticking through this mess!


End file.
